


Light As Snow Footsteps (As Secrets Become Discovered Transgressions)

by Lady_Katana4544



Series: Spook_me fics [2]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Canon-Typical Violence, Community: spook_me, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 05:36:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8389240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Katana4544/pseuds/Lady_Katana4544
Summary: Written for spook_me's 2016 ficathon.
The italics portion near the bottom of page are d'Artagnan's memories of his pre-canon meeting with my Vampire character.
Adalicia draws inspiration for her looks mostly from this picture used as one of this year's prompts for spook_me.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for spook_me's 2016 ficathon.
> 
> The italics portion near the bottom of page are d'Artagnan's memories of his pre-canon meeting with my Vampire character.
> 
> Adalicia draws inspiration for her looks mostly from this [picture](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/a2/94/c1/a294c1dbc09feeb6133e573c4a5a76e0--story-characters-fantasy-characters.jpg) used as one of this year's prompts for spook_me.

d’Artagnan knows the exact moment that the unpermitted Other enters their territory. He doesn’t need to see the looks that Adalicia has been giving him to know her thoughts or hear the reports that their Watchers bring them.

This Other –this _feeder_ – will no doubt make trouble for him and Adalicia, the longer it stays alive within the borders of the Paris. Trouble that d’Artagnan doesn’t need upsetting the already tenuous state of living between the native denizens of the Court and the human citizens of Paris.

Undesired trouble between his friends and himself, if they were to find out about his current state. That the Cardinal would no doubt try to use such knowledge to his advantage or make a move to kill him.

“What do you want to do about this creature?” Adalicia asks softly him one night during one of their late night shifts together.

“If I said wait and see what this creature does now that they’ve entered our territory without our permission, you will no doubt roll your eyes at me for even having the thought, dear mistress.” d’Artagnan says thoughtfully as he looks over at Adalicia just in time to see his friend roll her eyes at him.

d’Artagnan grins. “Told you so. Regretting that you turned me?”

“No. Though perhaps regretting that I decided to join you here in Paris and forgetting the humorous half of your temper, dear one. There are good hunts here, especially in the Court.” Adalicia shakes her head as strands of her short, white hair are moved by the new breeze that d’Artagnan hears more than see as it makes their fellow Musketeers on duty nearby pull their cloaks closer to their bodies.

“But?” d’Artagnan prompts as he watches her.

Sparkling amber–gold flecked eyes turn to meet his gaze as she slowly grins, the tip of one fang appearing in the dim light and shrugs one shoulder. “But what good Mistresses of the Night lets her turned children hunt alone in such large territory?”

Adalicia turns her attention away from him back towards the city as a hint of her Russian accent bleeds into her voice. “That aside we are both soldiers of the Night and I do not like that this creature has come uninvited into our territory. We must defend against it, before it can put in roots of its own.”

“What can we do?” d’Artagnan as he sweeps his eyes over his fellow Musketeers and along the wall.

Air hisses loudly between Adalicia’s pale as snow lips. “As much as I dislike it with passion, we have to watch and wait for its movements. Any move on our part –even to get rid of it– will incite panic among the humans.”

d’Artagnan rolls his shoulders back. “I hate waiting.”

The woman beside him sighs softly. “I know, d’Artagnan. But for the moment we must.”

0

“You seem tense on this day, d’Artagnan.”

d’Artagnan glances at Aramis as they patrol the market streets and smiles wanly. “I’m alright. Just a little tired, Aramis.”

Aramis hums in the back of his throat as Porthos chuckles softly around the bread he’s eating. It smells like a sweet bread of some kind and it is still warm, no doubt his friend had picked it up before joining them.

Looking away from the two of them, d’Artagnan looks ahead to where he can see Adalicia and Athos walking together. He won’t tell them, that his skin itches because it feels like someone is watching him.

It would be like mentioning that the sun makes his skin itch and his friends asking questions that d’Artagnan isn’t sure that he’s ready to answer for them. It isn’t something that he’s figured out how to tell them about.

The feeling of someone watching reminds him of how he had first met Adalicia.

_It is wintertime and a young teenaged d’Artagnan had volunteered to go out into the storm to find the doctor for his mother because his father and brother had fallen ill. He tugs his old winter coat around him trying to keep the biting cold out with no luck as goosebumps prickle along his skin._

_Shielding his eyes as best he can from the biting snow, d’Artagnan doesn’t see her standing still in the front of him as the wind and snow whistle around him until he bumps into her. The woman makes a startled sound after he bumps into her back, before he's falling back into the fresh snow._

_“Oh. Pardon me. I didn’t see you there.”_

_A soft voice answers in a language he doesn’t recognize and he looks up from his spot in the snow to meet amber-gold flecked eyes staring at him out from a furred hood and behind a silver mask. There’s something in that gaze and behind the eyes that makes him feel nervous to be under under her gaze._

_When he doesn’t answer immediately, the woman says something in that same tongue which feels like it may be a question though d’Artagnan isn’t sure how he knows even that and he shakes his head as he looks away._

_“I’m sorry. I don’t understand what you are saying, miss.”_

_A soft laugh reaches his ears and d’Artagnan looks up at her again as she bends over at the waist and reaches out to gently pat his shoulder. When she speaks again, d’Artagnan notes that he is able to understand despite the strangeness of her accent._

_“Never apologize, young man. What is a young soul like yourself out in this horrible storm?”_

_d’Artagnan blinks multiple snowflakes out of his eyes as he forces himself back on his feet before he answers the question. His eyes take note of the blade scabbard attached to her hip and part of him wonders if this woman is a Musketeer, though he has no idea if the regiment in Paris allowed women into their ranks._

_“My mother wanted me to find a doctor for my father and brother. They’re quite ill. We should find an inn and get out of the snow.” d’Artagnan answers as he looks to the woman’s masked face as she nods in agreement._

_“Yes, perhaps you are right. Lead the way, young soul.” The woman says in clear agreement._

_d’Artagnan huffs out a soft breath as he turns away from her and does his best ignore to the feeling of eyes staring into his back as he starts to walk toward the direction, he hopes the inn is in._

A woman’s frightened screaming rips d’Artagnan out of his memories on the past, then he’s racing with Aramis and Porthos towards the noise and to the mouth of an alley where Athos stands with one hand on Adalicia’s left arm as though he wanted to hold her back from something. Or perhaps to hold himself back.

d’Artagnan stops at Adalicia’s right side and looks over her shoulder. A cold hand grips hard on his heart and squeezes it. A young woman and her child lay dead on the ground of the alley with their throats ripped out while blood stains the ground and the walls of the buildings around the victims. It’s a sad yet messy, bloody scene that tells a story and he has an idea of the narrator of this unfortunate tale who may well be.

He turns his head and Adalicia meets his gaze, the message in her gaze is clear enough. Clear in the somber tightness in her otherwise calm face.

 

They can not wait and their enemy must be found before more death can follow these two.


End file.
